


business and pleasure

by hal9



Category: Original Work
Genre: Banter, Clothing Kink, Crossdressing, Historical, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-23 02:36:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14322699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hal9/pseuds/hal9
Summary: “I am here for business only” Lucien says, as he removes the hooded cloak he's been wearing. His voice is cool and unaffected, but a slight smile betrays his intentions. The duke notices, of course (he always notices everything), but he does not comment on it. Not for now, at least. The pretense is part of their game, and they do need to take care of other matters first.





	business and pleasure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nisiedraws](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nisiedraws/gifts).



“Always a pleasure” the duke says as he brings the assassin’s hand to his lips, the soft kiss earning him a raised eyebrow. “My valet announced you as a lady, one must keep the correct etiquete. And I must say, you look quite ravishing on that dress.”

 

“I am here for business only” Lucien says, as he removes the hooded cloak he's been wearing. His voice is cool and unaffected, but a slight smile betrays his intentions. The duke notices, of course (he always notices everything), but he does not comment on it. Not for now, at least. The pretense is part of their game, and they do need to take care of other matters first.

 

“Then business it shall be. How did our little endeavour go?” the duke asks casually, leaning against his desk and examining his fingernails, as if it the subject were nothing more serious than a stroll in the gardens. “Good news, I hope?”

 

“He’s gone. A little... bloodier than usual. But not traceable to you in any way, worry not. Or to me.”

 

“You are certain of that?”

 

“Of course. You have hired the best.”

 

The duke looks at him, calculating, as if searching his face for anything that will contradict this. Seemingly satisfied at finding none, he claps his hands and smiles affably. “Splendid. Payment will be sent in the usual way. A drink?” The duke asks, looking over his shoulder, already walking towards the sidetable with the crystal bottle. He pours a glass for each of them, their fingers brushing as Lucien takes his.

 

“A toast then. To the the continuation of our successful... business.”

 

The assassin smiles pleasantly, sits down and slowly takes the glass to his full lips, the duke’s eyes following his movements. He can’t help but notice how the pink divan brings out the details of his dress, little pink bows that contrast beautifully with the royal blue of the fabric. A pretty picture for a painter to paint, he thinks, and he moves his gaze back to the duke, who’s enthusiastically speaking about his grand plans for the city, or badmouthing his acquaintances, or whatever it is this time.

 

Lucien likes to hear him speak. No, perhaps hearing is not the right word. He enjoys watching him speak - not particularly caring in the subject matter, but focusing instead in the tone of his voice, in the way he waves his hands, in the twinkle his eyes gain when he’s particularly passionate about something. (A habit the assassin finds slightly endearing, not that he would say it out loud, of course.) He keeps sipping his drink, probably faster than he should, the sweet taste covering the strength of the alcohol. But it is alright. Business is taken care of and he can let himself go. That’s why he puts so much effort into these disguises, after all. It would be a shame if they weren’t enjoyed to its fullest.

 

His glass is suddenly very empty and the duke is suddenly very close. “My dear, did you listen to a single word of what I just said?” he asks, faking concern and taking the empty glass away.

 

The assassin grins and leans back, inviting. “That’s not what you pay me for.”

 

“I do not pay you for what follows either,” the duke sits next him, placing his hands on Lucien’s tightly laced waist, “but here you stay all the same.”

 

“That’s a-” he starts, but the duke is now kissing the space between his neck and his shoulder, biting down softly, “ah, a different matter...” the kisses follow a path up his neck, his jaw, his cheek, and then the duke licks his ear, causing him to shiver in anticipation.

 

“Eager now, aren’t you?” he whispers, some smugness to his voice that Lucien finds hopelessly attractive. But he ignores the question, pretending not to care about the hands currently going through the various ribbons and buttons that hold his dress together.

 

“Speaking of payment, sir, you have yet to pay the bill from my tailor.”

 

“Must we speak of that right now?”

 

“Yes. I was very fond of that coat and I had to get rid of it in your service. Therefore, its replacement should-” but he is interrupted by a kiss, his open mouth an invitation to the duke’s tongue, and the rest of the sentence gets lost in a moan.

 

“I always pay my debts. You can rest assured. And now my dear,” his partner says, a hungry look on his face, “lovely as this dress is on you, I think it’s about time to take if off, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

Lucien slips out of the dress and various layers of skirts, letting them fall on the floor next to them. He’s about to start unlacing the corset, but the duke pulls him close by his hips, admiring the fine lace of his undergarments. “Very nice. You treat yourself better than most of the ladies I’ve had the pleasure of seeing in this state.”

 

“All thanks to you, my dear duke.” He replies with a smile, very proud of his wardrobe choice of today. He would prefer to remove the final layers to be more comfortable, but there is something to be said about the charm of being only half undressed, so he lies down on the divan, and pulls the chemise up to his hips, showing off the pretty bows on the hem his stockings. He raises one leg elegantly, and the duke follows cue, taking it into his hands and kissing his way up until he reaches smooth skin. Little kisses and bites are planted on the soft skin of his inner thighs, and Lucien groans as he feels the man’s hair brushing his erection, but nothing further than that.

 

“Don’t be greedy now. Patience is a virtue, my friend.” The duke says amused. Lucien groans again, equal parts frustration and pleasure. He knows all about the virtues of patience, it’s a fundamental part of his job. Which means that outside of it, his becomes somewhat limited.

 

“And you’re an expert on virtue now, are you?”

 

Suddenly, his legs are raised above the duke’s shoulders. The man spreads his cheeks, and Lucien feels something warm and wet at his entrance, leading to surprised “Oh...!”. This is a treat he does not often get and he promptly melts into the sensation, trying to position himself better, his partner’s tongue doing wonders for him. Stroking himself with one hand, with the other he grabs the duke’s thick hair, keeping him in place. That mouth truly is one of his best assets.

 

He almost comes right then and there, but before he reaches that final stage, the duke stops. He straightens his back and temporarily leaves his position to get a small flask. Lucien looks at him through half lidded eyes.

 

“Wh-why... did you stop...” he whines, his breathing coming to him short and fast.

 

“Well, it would be unfair if you were the one having all the fun.” The duke says, a large bulge clearly visible in the front of his breeches.

 

“Oh.” He has the grace of smiling sheepishly as he spreads his legs further apart.

 

The duke prepares himself with the oil and then he enters him with a sigh, making Lucien whimper with the sudden feeling of fullness. He feels his wrists being pinned down, possibly to stop him from touching himself any further, but he’s too close already for it to matter. It doesn’t take many of the duke’s thrusts to make Lucien come with a long and loud moan, his seed spilling between their clothes. He continues moaning softly as the thrusts get harder and faster, the grip on his hips stronger, and it is not long before the duke too gets his release.

 

After regaining his breath, the duke gets up and needs only to pull up his breeches and fix his hair to look presentable, leaving Lucien to lay there by himself. Once again, he considers the pretty picture he must make - all spread out on the divan, with only his stockings and cum stained chemise, dizzy from drink and lust, breathless from sex and the corset he was not allowed to remove, his cheeks red and eyes dark. A pity there isn’t a mirror in the room.

 

He looks at the dress and petticoats on the floor and sighs. He feels sticky and hot, not at all inclined to put them on again.

 

As if reading his mind, the duke makes a better suggestion: “There is a passage from this study to a small chamber that leads to my room. If you do not have any plans for the rest of the evening, I invite you to resume our activities at a more comfortable setting.”

 

Lucien smiles and replies in a way that is meant to be seductive, but comes out as more satisfied and tender.

 

“You always know the right thing to say.”


End file.
